A CARAVEL OF DREAMS 



LA MUNRO TSINTeR 



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Book 



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Copyright N". 



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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



H Caravel of S)reams 

A BOOK OF VERSE 

BY 
LILA MUNRO TAINTER 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 

1914 






.^^Kcx^^ 



Copyright, 1914 
Sherman, Frekch & Company 

DEC -5 1914 
©CI.A388722 



TO 

MY HUSBAND 

AND 

MY MOTHER 



ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

The poems entitled " Young Love is Dead," 
" The Captive," " Sleep," were first published 
in the Smart Set; " The Undiscovered Coun- 
try," in the International; " A Sleighing Song," 
" Condemned," " Departed Years," " Newport 
Harbor," " My Pearl," in the Providence Jour- 
nal; " Fields of Sleep," in the Washington 
Evening Star; " Reapers," '' The Necroman- 
cer," in the Boston Transcript; " Eastertime," 
" The Cross of Rubidoux," " Christ's Mother," 
"Worship of the Flowers," "0 Bird, Swift 
Flying," in the Ave Maria, Notre Dame, Indi- 
ana ; " Bethlehem's Babe," " For Success," in 
the Los Angeles Times; to which publications 
my thanks are due for permission to reprint. 

LiLA MUNRO TaINTER 

San Diego, 

California. 



FOREWORD 

O ship o' dreams, fashioned from foam of wavesi, 

Bird songs and whisperings of leafy boughs, 

The footfall of the rain upon the roof, 

The grief and joy of man, the flower of dawn, 

The tender grace of twilight on the sea ; 

Molded by the desire of the heart, 

And armored in a strength invincible. 

Made in the furnace of the soul's white flame, — 

Go swiftly over seas to my beloved. 

Bearing within thy hold a precious freight 

Of memories' fragrant spices. Fear no ill; 

The pilot. Love, will guide thee to the feet 

Of her who made our earth a paradise. 



CONTENTS 
POEMS OF LOVE 

PAGE 

Young Love is Dead 1 

Love, the Sorcerer 2 

Love's Prisoner 3 

When Birds Sing Low 4 

To Eros 5 

Love's First Dream 7 

Where Thou Dost Pass 8 

The Debutante 9 

Once More 10 

Forgive 12 

Oh, Come to Me IS 

The Captive . 14 

Love's Approach 15 

Sketches 16 

The Tryst 18 

The Artist 19 

POEMS OF FANCY 

Sleep 23 

The Dower 24 

Ships 25 

The Argonauts 26 

The Quest 29 

Aspiration 31 

To Arcady 32 

Departed Years 33 

Fields of Sleep 34 



PAGE 

The Rock-a-by Ship S5 

When Pan Plays 37 

POEMS OF REVERY 

A Christmas Toast 41 

Retrospection 43 

The Undiscovered Country 44 

The Dullard 45 

Reapers 46 

A Question 47 

For Success .48 

Expectation 49 

The Caravels 51 

POEMS OF NATURE 

A Sleighing Song 55 

Evening 56 

The Necromancer 57 

Hours 59 

The Surf Dogs 61 

The Seagulls . 62 

Indian Summer 63 

Persephone 64 

Regina 65 

The Desert 67 

At La Jolla 69 

Newport Harbor 70 

By the Pacific 71 

O Bird, Swift Flying 72 

The Return 73 



POEMS OF SORROW 

PAGE 

77 
In a Garden 

79 
Resignation 

My Pearl 

At Night 

In Hospital at Manila ^^ 

Hope's Messenger ^^ 

My Song ^^ 

Good-bye, Old Year ^'^ 

^ ... 89 
Finis 

T^ . . 90 
Dreams 

Pass On, O Death ^^ 

Turn Down His Empty Glass .... 92 

POEMS OF TRAGEDY 

97 
Anarchy 

c ... 99 
Sisters 

Betrayed 

The Wanton ^^^ 

Rachel ^^* 

The Jester ^^^ 

Condemned 

Paying the Piper ^^"^ 

The Land of Woe 1^^ 

The Open Gate 1^^ 

Vanquished 

RELIGIOUS POEMS 

The Cross of Rubidoux 115 

The Worship of the Flowers . . . .117 



PAGE 

Easter Time 118 

Christ's Mother 119 

Bethlehem's Babe . 120 

I Am a Wanderer 122 

When Shepherds Watched 123 

Yuletide 125 

Cui Bono 126 



POEMS OF LOVE 



YOUNG LOVE IS DEAD 

Young Love is dead, 
But when he died we cannot tell ; 
There was no sound of passing bell 

When life had fled. 

We did not know 
A thing so fair could pass away, 
That lips of fire could turn one day 

To lips of snow. 

In dumb despair 
We gazed on him we had caressed ; 
His hands were folded on his breast 

As if in prayer. 

Then in the grave 
We laid our Love so cold and still. 
We could not weep ; we had no will 

Or power to save. 

The Spring is here 
With smiling face, but Love has fled; 
Where last year's flowers are lying dead. 

Go seek his bier. 



[1] 



LOVE, THE SORCERER 

Love is a sorcerer of wondrous power; 

He holds the glass of time within his hand, 
And, lo, for one ecstatic, happj hour 

The sun of heart's desire at his command 
Floods all the land ! 

Love is the harbinger of bitter pain. 

Of vain regret, of tears and wild despair, — 

A harvest, garnered 'mid the winds and rain, 
Of blighted hopes and memories once fair. 
Of Love beware ! 

And yet whene'er we hear his thrilling voice, — 
Whether in perfumed Spring we list his 
speech, 
Or when bird choirs of Summer sing, " Re- 
joice " — 
With outstretched arms we strive his arms to 
reach, 
And gifts beseech ! 

Love, the beginning and the end of all, 

Molds even the changeless to his own behest, 

And gives to those who, living, miss his call. 
In death the sacred shelter of his breast ; 
And this is best t 



[2] 



LOVE'S PRISONER 

Thou art Love's prisoner who once roamed free 

And mocked his chains ; 
Henceforward at his pleasure thou shalt be 

As he ordains. 

Thy bosom white is his, thy dark eyes' fire; 

Thy nectared lips 
Are his alone to drain at his desire 

In honeyed sips. 

He marked thee for his own ; and by his art 

And subtle charms 
He seized and prisoned thee within his heart, 

Bound by his arms. 



[3] 



WHEN BIRDS SING LOW 

RONDEAU 

When birds sing low in green retreat 
At midnight hour their love songs sweet, 
The poppied arms of Sleep forsake 
For mine, Sweetheart, Awake ! Awake ! 
Oh, let me not in vain entreat 

When birds sing low. 

Soon o'er the hills her lord to greet 
Will glide the Dawn on shining feet: 

Haste, from thy limbs dreams' fetters shake 
When birds sing low. 

The night with mysteries is replete. 

And for love's tryst alone is meet ; 

Then come to me ere morn doth break, 
With fragrant lips my thirst to slake 
When birds sing low. 



[4] 



TO EROS 

O FAIR god Eros, on this summer day 

Pause in thy flight, 
And 'mid the fragrant blossoms let us stray 

Before the Night 
Shrouds in her dusky veil the saffron light. 

The tawny bees sing low the while they poise 

O'er each sweet lip, 
And fan the ardor of their coming joys 

Before they sip. 
Then, — into waiting nectared cups they dip. 

List, I entreat thee! Lay thy weapons by 

A while, and rest 
Ere thou dost wing thy course adown the sky ; 

I fain would test 
My strength 'gainst thine. Come, dream upon 
my breast ! 

Thou canst not wound me, Eros ; I am old, 

And thou must keep 
Thine arrows for hearts not grown numb and 
cold : 

An ashen heap 
Long since was mine, with all its story told. 



[6] 



— Nay, threat me not, I fear no more thy 
charms ! 

— But, ah, thy breath, — 

Thy soft lips, wake again the old alarms ; — 

— Though this be death, 

'Tis welcome thus to meet it in thine arms. 



[6] 



LOVE'S FIRST DREAM 

When yesterday 
Has faded in the far horizon dim, 
And fair to-morrow o'er the mountain's rim 

Peeps arch and gay, 
Will aught remind thee of our old-time bliss, 
The rapture of the first ecstatic kiss? 

Or doth stern fate 
Decree that it shall be recalled no more, 
As footprints made upon a sandy shore 

That waves obliterate; 
And all the charm, the passion and sweet pain 
Of love's first message never come again? 

It cannot be 
That midst the joys with which thy life is 

fraught. 
The past so bitter-sweet holds not a thought, 

A memory of me; 
That I, who kindled first the altar's flame, 
Shall have nor habitation nor a name? 

Let love's first dream 
Sometimes glide through the cloisters of thy 

heart, 
And I shall know, though time and seas may 
part ; 
Nor will it seem 
A sin to have been loved, though at the shrine 
Another hand now feeds the fire divine. 

m 



WHERE THOU DOST PASS 

Where thou dost pass, 
The chaliced lily fairer grows, 
And sweeter breathes the fragrant rose; 
The whole wide world in beauty blooms and 
glows 

Where thou dost pass. 

O little queen, 
O dainty, royal lady fair, 
Our prisoner wonderful and rare, 
Caught on the wing, trapped in a moonbeam 
snare, 

O little queen. 

Wilt thou not stay 
A few short hours thine upward flight. 
And be content till jewelled night 
Dies on the threshold of the morning bright 

Wilt thou not stay? 

Thy captor, Love, 
Folds thee from harms upon his breast ; 
Then struggle not, but quiet rest, — 
A timid bird safe in a sheltered nest ; 

Thy captor. Love. 



[8] 



THE DEBUTANTE 

She comes, a vision to enchant, — 
Dark, tangled lashes veil her eyes. 
Filled with a sweet, demure surprise; 

A rosebud fair, a debutante. 

The chestnut rings anear her cheek 
Touch lovingly the tinted snows ; 
Chased by her smile a dimple goes 

About her mouth at hide-and-seek. 

Ah, could I feel that little hand 

With rose-tipped fingers clasp mine own, 
The proudest monarch on his throne 

Would rank as beggar in the land. 

Fair maid, to me sweet succor give, 
Nor let my heart unheeded lie 
Beneath thy light feet tripping by, 

But heal my wounds and bid me live. 



[9] 



ONCE MORE 

When the Summer comes once more, 
O my love, 

Shall I see you as of yore, 

O my love; 

With heaven's radiance shining through 

Overarching skies of blue 

In a benison on you, 

O my love? 

Will you smile on me again. 

Heart of mine. 

And forgive the tears and pain, 

Heart of mine. 

And forget doubt's drifting snows 

In the glory of the rose. 

While love's rapture burns and glows. 
Heart of mxine? 

Hasten to mine empty arms. 

My beloved ; 

I will shelter you from harms. 

My beloved. 

You shall lie upon my breast 

In an ecstasy of rest. 

Safe as bird within its nest. 

My beloved. 



[10] 



In that distant country fair, 

O mine own, 
You must know my wild despair, 

O mine own; 
And from out eternity. 
By love's wondrous potency, 
You will come from God to me, 

O mine own! 



[11] 



FORGIVE 

Amid the shadows dark 

That close enfold, 
Above the ruins stark 
Of hopes grown cold, 
Send but one token, dear, that I may live; 
Forgive. 

Beyond the mountain ridge 

So darkly blue. 
Across yon starry bridge 
My prayers pursue 
Who couldst no boon refuse when thou didst 
live ; 

Forgive. 

By pangs of vain remorse. 

By anguished cry. 
By haunted orbs whose source 
Of tears is dry, 
Remember not the old-time perfidy ; that I may 
live, 

Forgive. 

Adown the black abyss 
Whence thee I call. 
From thine estate of bliss 
Let pardon fall; 
Whisper to me one word that I may live ; 
Forgive. 
[12] 



OH, COME TO ME 
RONDEL 

Oh, come to me ; the twilight shadows grey, 
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west, 

Where slowly fades the flower of the day. 
Its petals floating on the ocean's breast. 

While birds sing sweet good-night in bowered 
nest 

Amid the trees whose branches swing and sway, 

Oh, come to me ; the twilight shadows grey. 
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west. 

Thy lips are sweet as blossoms of the May, 
Thy bosom white as snow on mountain's 
crest. 

Across the fields of evening take thy way. 

And with thy gentle voice soothe my unrest ; 

Oh, come to me; the evening shadows grey, 
Veil with their dusky wings the golden west. 



[13] 



THE CAPTIVE 

Why does Love weave such fetters for my 
feet; 
O heart's delight, I should be far away; 
Hark, through the casement sounds the world's 
heart-beat. 
The echo of its fray. 

Open thy gates and set me free again; 

Thy tangling lashes hold me captive still; 
And thus I kneel, filled with delicious pain, 

A suppliant at thy will. 

The blossom of thy mouth invites approach, 
Its garnered sweetness I would fain surprise, 

But should I on its petals fair encroach, 
Wouldst slay me with thine eyes? 

Have pity, beauteous lady; bid me live; 

Grant me some hope ere I from thee depart ; 
If guerdon for sweet duress I must give, 

Maiden, I leave my heart. 



[14] 



LOVE'S APPROACH 

Mine own, my dear, 
Love has set forth upon his gentle quest ; 
Open thy portals for the coming guest 

Without a fear. 

Swift from the skies. 
O'er hill and stream he straightway wings his 

flight. 
His path illumined ever by the light 

Within thine eyes. 

Thy bosom's shrine 
Shall be to him a sanctuary sweet; 
After the din and turmoil of the street, 

Refuge divine. 

True love ne'er tires 
Seeking his own ; as magnet unto steel 
He flies, and shall abide through woe or w^eal,— 

E'en through sin's fires. 

He asks not gain 
Of his beloved, nor if his gift exceed; 
He Cometh to fulfill each wish and need. 

And soothe all pain. 

From Heaven above 
He brings the crown of all the joys to be, 
Conqueror of death, heir of eternity, 

Immortal Love. 
[15] 



SKETCHES 



The God of Day comes forth with his young 
bride — 

Fair Morn, enshrouded in her silvery mists ; 
With eager hand he sweeps her veil aside, 

And blushing yields she whatso'er he lists. 
The waterfall leaps down from craggy lair. 
And with its rainbow glories decks her hair. 

The swallows dart from hidden nests, and fly 
In myriads over meadow, barn and croft ; 

Far, far above the tallest treetops high. 
The message of the morning bear aloft ; 

The river sings betwixt its sedgy banks. 

And reeds and grasses wave in serried ranks. 

II 

The ardent Sun above Earth's fragrant breast 
Broods with his wide-spread wings of flame 
a-glow ; 

And golden plumage, falling from his crest, 
Quivers and gleams upon the tide below. 

A languorous peace pervades, begot from this 

Embrace of Earth and Sun in cloud abyss. 

The insects' drowsy drone the only sound 
That breaks the quiet of the noontide grace, 
[16] 



The bees within the lily's cup have found 
Sweet recompense of labor for a space ; 
The dusky shades withdraw to forest maze, 
Nor stirring leaf their ambush safe betrays. 

Ill 

Night o'er her head a star-gemmed wimple 
flings, 

And swiftly glides adown the darkening skies ; 
Between her palms the lantern moon she swings 

As to the trysting-place of Love she hies ; 
Glowing with ardor, filled with sweet alarms, 
Eager she seeks the rapture of his arms. 

The wandering wind, espying her in flight. 
With view halloo, upon the chase has sped. 

But ere Dawn's archers with their shafts of 
light 
Rise to the hunt, the wanton queen has fled; 

Yet little zephyrs whispering, disclose 

The secret amour to the blushing rose. 



[17] 



THE TRYST 

The perfume of roses fills the air ; 

The lily in green coif, tall and fair. 
Amid the shadows that grow apace, 
Stands like a nun with pure, pale face. 

The herald stars with their torches bright 
Proclaim in the skies the coming Night ; 
Her dusky mantle is sweeping chill 
O'er swaying trees and on distant hill. 

The firefly lights up his lantern small; 
The mournful voices of crickets call ; 

The wings of the winds bring odors sweet ; 

But never sound of thy coming feet. 

A dreaming bird calls from hidden nest ; 

The moon sails over the mountain's crest ; 
The brown owl summons his mate unseen 
Far in the depths of the woodland green. 

Wliy dost thou tarry .^ The hours wane. 

Must Love's fond pleading be made in vain.'' 
My lips are thirsting for thy lips dear, 
— Moon of delight, — she is here, she is 
here. 



[18] 



THE ARTIST 

Thou art a daughter of the house of song, 
Whose golden corridors, the hours long. 
Are echoing 
With unborn harmonies that dulcet ring. 

Within thy lovely bosom, 'neath its snows, 
A spark from God's own altar bums and glows ; 
Its flame divine 
Draws all the ravished world and makes it 
thine. 

Such rapture does thy wondrous music wake 
That souls in ecstasy their bonds would break. 
And, from earth free. 
Soar up to heaven on wings of melody. 



[19] 



POEMS OF FANCY 



SLEEP 



RONDEL 



Sleep wanders slowly down night's golden 
stair, 

Wearing a dream-flower on her snowy breast. 
In rippling splendor flows her unbound hair, 

Her eyes in heavenly benediction rest 

Upon the unquiet world and it is blest. 
Repose profound attends all nature where 
Sleep wanders slowly down night's golden stair. 

Wearing a dream-flower on her snowy breast. 

Peace enters weary hearts, abiding there 

For a brief space, and at her sweet behest, 

Tears flow no more, forgotten is despair. 
As, with hushed footfall, on her gentle quest. 

Sleep wanders slowly down night's golden stair. 



[23] 



THE DOWER 

Hidden 'mid interlacing vines of green 

That o'er the rough stone boulders climb and 
cling, 

There is a little gate almost unseen, 

And birds about its portals nest and sing. 

A tiny gate, but broad and wondrous fair 

The landscape that beyond it stretches wide, 
With flowering fields whose perfume fills the 
air. 
And shady groves where woodland things 
abide. 

Dryads from every tree and shrub invite 
To dalliance in shady, cool retreat, 

And humming birds in every bloom alight, 
Nor know at last which sip has been most 
sweet. 

Spirit of beauty, wonderful thy dower; 

Without such gift how barren life would be ! 
The miracle of bush and tree and flower 

Thou givest those who love thee, eyes to see. 



[24] 



SHIPS 

Out of the shadows grey 

That hang in misty veil, 

A little fleet sets sail 
From port of Yesterday. 

With white wings to the breeze, 
Their high prows spurn the foam. 
And swiftly onward come 

To bring back memories. 

From far-off southern skies 

Where sun-kissed rivers flow ; 
From northland, white with snow, 

Whence cloud-capped peaks arise; 

Into the Present glide 

The phantom ships of Yore, 
Sweep into port once more. 

And safe at anchor ride. 

And when the sun sinks low. 
Strange music ebbs and swells 
Like chime of elfin bells, — 

The songs of Long Ago. 



[25] 



THE ARGONAUTS 

We are sailing, we are sailing, and our quest 

shall never cease 
Till in Hesperidean gardens we behold the 

golden fleece. 
Passing glimpses of its splendor seemed to reach 

us in the mom 
When above the waste of waters came the rosy 

day new-born, 
But, alas, no land was lying, green and lovely, 

on our lee, 
And as far as eye could follow stretched the 

restless, moaning sea. 
We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any 

mortal hailing. 
Till we see on far horizon those fair islands 

of delight. 

When the golden flower of heaven opened wide 
to glorify 

The tree of night whose branches stretched 
across the arching sky. 

And the silver stars were blossoming in myriads 
on each bough, 

We thought our quest was ended and our guer- 
don given now. 

Oh, the agony of waiting ; oh, the hope deferred 
so long, 

[26] 



That may only voice its yearning in the meas- 
ure of a song. 
We are sailing, we are sailing. 

Eyes once keen are dulled with gazing on the 
far-ofF misty rim 

For a glimpse of that fair kingdom in the off- 
ing, pale and dim; 

And the crew, so gay and fearless, now are 
greybeards sad and old. 

With their courage crushed and broken and 
their fiery hearts grown cold; 

Joyous hopes and aspirations, all have faded 
till they seem 

Like the evanescent phantoms of some half-for- 
gotten dream. 
We are sailing, we are sailing. 

We have journeyed long and widely, and our 
ship in port would be; 

She is heavy with the trailing weeds of many 
an unknown sea; 

Every sail is brown and tattered; all her tim- 
bers leaking sore. 

She has buffeted the typhoon, heard the sirens 
on the shore ; 

Bare her deck and swept by surges ; guiding 
helm unshipped and gone; 

She is but a wreck dismantled and the treasure 
still unwon. 

[27] 



We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any 

mortal hailing; 
Oh, to see on the horizon those fair islands 

of delight I 

To the eastward or the westward is the king- 
dom that we seek? 

Not one ship has ever reached it of the many 
we bespeak; 

But we know beyond all doubting, by our an- 
guish of desire, 

By the unrest that consumes us with the tor- 
ment of its fire. 

That the agony of loving and the heartbreaks 
were not vain. 

And that in the port we're seeking there is 
surcease for our pain. 
We are sailing, we are sailing, beyond any 

mortal hailing. 
Back to angel arms that clasped us long ago, 
so long ago. 



[28] 



THE QUEST 

We've been searching for a lifetime, 

Everywhere, 
For a mystic hidden country passing fair, 
Where our bright dream castles stand 
In a cloudless summer land 
And countless blossoms perfume all the air. 

Sometimes when the sun was sinking 

In the west, 
And each sleepy bird was brooding on its nest. 
We have seen a glory gleaming 
Brighter far than earthly seeming. 
And we thought to gain our haven and our 
quest. 

Music sweet as ever heard from 

Angel choir, 
Kindled in the yearning heart supreme desire, 
Till the soul in ecstasy 
From earth trammels would be free, 
Burning in its prison with divinest fire. 

We could almost view our wondrous 

Castles white. 
With their starry casements glowing all alight. 
Hear the bells within the towers 
Mark the passing of the hours. 
Then — betwixt us fell the blackness of the 
night. 

[29] 



Was it but day's dying embers 

On the sky, 
And the moaning winds among the treetops 

high, 
Blending woodland whispers low 
With the river's rhythmic flow, — 
For we're wandering still and searching, you 
and I? 

But I'm weary, oh, so weary 

Of the dark [ 
And upon my spirit pain has left its mark. 
In life's game of " give and take " 
Oft the stoutest heart will break 
If hope lies within the bosom cold and stark ! 

When across death's black abyss 
Heaven's glory streams. 
Lighting up its fearsome depths with golden 

gleams. 
Shall we see before us rise. 
Silhouetted 'gainst the skies, 
The elusive, fairy castles of our dreams? 



[30] 



ASPIRATION 

I PINE for fields Elysian, for streams 
Sparkling and fair beyond Earth's wildest 
dreams, 
Upon whose banks I fain would lie at ease, 
Mine ears attuned to wondrous melodies ; 
And lips now sternly locked in silence chill, 
With thoughts unchained would make the whole 
earth thrill. 

My soul is fainting for the viands rare 
On which the gods are daily wont to fare ; 
Some favored eat thereof, nor are denied, 
While I, an-hungered, gazing stand outside. 

Give me the wine of song, that I may drain 
The golden cup and never thirst again ; 
The food ambrosial let me taste, and feel 
Divine afflatus through my senses steal. 
Life lacking this is but a beggar's meed; 
Granted, a banquet fit for royal need. 

If but the lees my portion be designed. 
If only crumbs from Zeus' feast I find. 

Though Death preside, the gain would still be 
mine. 

If on Olympian crusts I once might dine. 



[31] 



TO ARCADY 

With joyous hearts and laughter gay 
We wander on the livelong day ; 

Sometimes the road is fair with flowers. 
Sometimes the rain-cloud glooms and lowers, 
But we are young, and merrily 
We dance along to Arcady. 

We lie beside the hedge at night ; 
Above us stars gleam large and bright. 
What matters hunger, rags or cold. 
When ours the world to have and hold? 
And so, with blithe hearts, merrily 
We journey on to Arcady. 

Then — blinding tears ; yet must we on. 
Though strength is spent and bays unwon: 
The last rose tint fades from the west ; 
Pan's pipes are stilled; we fain would rest; 
For now we know 'twas fantasy, — 
Our dream of youth, our Arcady. 



[32] 



DEPARTED YEARS 

Return, departed years, return once more ; 

In happy dreams I see ye still, and hear 

The music of your soft-voiced melody. 

Its subtle spell pei'vades the solitude 

Of gloomy night until I live again. 

But waking weep to find it but a dream. 

The golden days of youth come back to me, 

Joys long since passed away and hopes grown 

cold ; 
Loved faces, hidden by the flower starred turf. 
Smile fondly on me with their old-time charm, 
And all my soul is steeped in sweet repose. 
O happy dreams, O bitter wakening! 
Would I might wake no more, but quiet sleep, 
Lulled on the bosom of the happy Past, 
Hearing her low voice murmur in my ear. 
While memory's bell should ring the Angelus 
That tells the sun of life has sunk to rest. 



[331 



FIELDS OF SLEEP 

Know'st thou the wide, mysterious fields of 
sleep, 
Whose velvet green sward sparkles into rills. 
Where fair dream flowers ope on every side. 

Their petals written o'er in mystic signs ; 
Where bright winged fancies float from bloom 
to bloom, 
Sipping the treasured honey as they fly? 
From far-off^ hills, whereon browse peaceful 
flocks, 
The plaintive note of shepherd's pipe is 
heard. 
While sob of waves from unseen mystic shores 
Whispers the tired heart to peaceful rest. 
And over flower and field and shimmering 
stream 
Trail silver banners of the fair-faced moon. 
O happy kingdom where such j oy s abide ! 
O fields divine, strewn o'er with blossoms 
rare ! 
Some time, returning not, we reach thy verge, 
And lo, the ocean of eternity ! 



[34] 



THE ROCK-A-BY SHIP 

The rock-a-by ship is ready for sea, 

Her anchor is weighed and her sails un- 
furled ; 
She is only waiting for you and for me 

To sail away o'er the edge of the world: 
Hark, to the sailors' cheery cry ! 
{Lullaby, baby, lullaby!) 

Who sets sail in the rock-a~by ship? 

All aboard! All aboard! Off we sweep! 
Over the billows we rise and dip. 

Bound for the wondrous ocean of sleep ! 
Under our keel the foam leaps high. 
{Lullaby, darling, lullaby!) 

The ocean of sleep lies far away. 

With fair dream islands upon its breast, 
We tarry awhile, but may not stay 

Until we come forever to rest. 
See the islands against the sky ! 

{Lullaby, sweetheart, lullaby!) 

Angel children with loving smile 

Joyfully crowd the wave-wet strand, 

Darlings we cherished on earth a while, 
Gathered to welcome the coming band. 

Arms outstretch as the ship draws nigh. 
{Lullaby, precums, lullaby!) 

[35] 



Song birds wing through the perfumed air, 
Flowers bloom that will never die, 

For, opening painted petals fair, 

Lo, each one soars to the cloudless sky, 

A radiant, beautiful butterfly I 

(Lullaby, dearest, lullahy!) 



[36] 



WHEN PAN PLAYS 

Through the fragrant air of springtime 

Far a-field steals a refrain, 
Waking in the soul a yearning 

That is poignant unto pain; 
Piercing, silvery and elusive. 

As it threads through nature's theme, 
And we know beyond a doubting 

Pan is playing by the stream. 

Pan, the sylvan god alluring. 

Crowned with garlands of the vine. 
With his magic pipes whose cadence 

Is half-human, half-divine. 
Binding with his chords melodious 

All the flowers in life's scheme 
Till the birds go mad with singing, 

" Pan is playing by the stream." 

Sweet as touch of lips forbidden 

Upon lips that fain would kiss. 
Rapturous as realization 

Of a long-retarded bliss. 
Thrilling with the ecstatic anguish 

Of love, sovereign, supreme. 
Rises the impassioned measure — 

Pan is playing by the stream. 



[37] 



As the feeble footsteps falter, 

And the glamour dies away, 
And the lengthening twilight shadows 

Mark the closing of the day. 
Faint as memories of Summer 

In the Winter's icy dream. 
Is the echo of the music 

Pan was playing by the stream. 



[38] 



POEMS OF REVERY 



A CHRISTMAS TOAST 

'Tis Christmas time. Upon the hills afar 

In Palestine so many years ago, 
The shepherds guarding sheep beheld a star 

That led them to a manger cradle low. 

'Tis Christmas time. As far as eye can reach 
The broad Pacific pulses deep and slow, 

And white-winged sea gulls, with their strident 
screech, 
Dive from the blue above to blue below. 

'Tis Christmas time. The tall poinsettias rise 
In royal panoply of crimson blooms ; 

Against the dazzling tint of southern skies, 
Cocoas plumosa wave their graceful plumes. 

'Tis Christmas time. The snow lies wide and 
white 
On the Atlantic coast; an icy sheet 
Covers the streams, but tapers are alight. 
And round the tree move children's dancing 
feet. 

'Tis Christmas time. For some the world is 
young; 

Life's bright entrancing tale is still untold; 
For some the lights are out; the song is sung; 

The shadows gather, and the world is old. 



[41] 



'Tis Christmas time — throughout the southern 
lands, 
And 'mid the drifting snows, 'tis Christmas 
time; 
Across the mountain peaks we stretch our 
hands. 
And clasp and drink to friends in every 
clime. 



[42] 



RETROSPECTION 

If in the land where loved ones congregate 
Is known the misery of those who wait 

Upon the hither side of death's dark stream, 
Beset by grisly terrors of life's dream, 
Perchance joy may be marred in those 

bright spheres, 
When angel eyes are dimmed by pitying 
tears. 



[43] 



THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY 

Where does it lie, this country of our yearn- 
ing? 
Not eastward, where morn's altar fires 
gleam 
And orisons from happy bird throats stream ; 
Nor where the palms, amid the desert burn- 
ing, 
Show blessed oases to the traveller turning; 
Nor e'en where snowy hands of mountains 
seem 
To pluck the stars, the while they lonely 
dream 
In solitude sublime, life's plan discerning. 

'Tis here about us where we grope and stray 
And wander with unseeing eyes afar. 

We brush the fair white wings of angel band. 
And never know, until at last some day 

We fall on death, whose kindly hands unbar 
Our senses locked, and, lo, the promised 
land! 



[44] 



THE DULLARD 

Master, I pray, turn down the lettered page; 

Hopeless the task I find, nor have I guessed 

The hidden meaning of my fruitless quest, 
Nor what these mystic symbols would presage; 
Let me go hence, my anguish to assuage. 

Time was I conned the script with joyous 
zest. 

Now tear-blind eyes yearn for eternal rest; 
Free me, unworthy of my heritage. 

Others shall follow, filled with purpose strong, 
To whom will be as naught the grief and pain 

That I have suffered ; scanning swift along 
The lines, thy message shall not be in vain. 

But I, alas, am not of that blessed throng. 
And from thy courts an exile must remain. 



[45] 



REAPERS 

A T>iTTLE time to sow, and then the reaping; 

The harvest ours alone, for joy or pain. 
We may but gather thistles with wild weeping. 

Or pluck from fields aglow with golden grain. 

Some work on uplands where the sun is shining ; 

In valleys some, where grisly shadows lie: 
The wherefor is beyond our poor divining. 

But we shall learn the secret by and by. 



[40] 



A QUESTION 

Each spirit unaccompanied must tread 

The path of life unto the exit gate ; 
Alone we came, alone our steps are sped 

Through storm and sunshine to an unknown 
fate. 
But when the march is ended and we rest, 

With all conjecture banished from the brain, 
Will there be found the purpose of our quest, 

Solution of life's anguish and its pain? 



[47] 



FOR SUCCESS 

" Perhaps it was well to dissemble your love, 
But why did you kick me down stairs." 

Kemble. 

Would you know the best way to get into the 

swim, 
Although it should be on the outermost rim? 
Bend your knee to the rich; to the great 

lend your ear; 
But the plaint of the poor neither notice nor 
hear. 
Pluck your heart out and throw to the dog^ 

for their food; 
You'll need it no more in a circle so good. 
Turn your back on old friends who ar^ 

threadbare and torn ; 
Deny aged parents old-fashioned, toil-worn' 
Lie and cheat; lick men's boots, and do all a 

fool dares ; — 
And return undisturbed when they kick you 
down stairs. 



[48] 



EXPECTATION 

I've had happy dreams of you 

Every hour, 
Since the moment that I knew, 

O my flower ! 
God would send to me some day, 
From his garden far away, 
A fair bud to ope and blossom in my bower. 

When the sunset glory dies 

In the west, 
As a bird on swift wings flies 

To its nest, 
I can see your sinless soul 
Fluttering onward to its goal 
In the shelter of my heart to lie at rest! 

Let your journey here be fleet, 

Gift divine! 
I would kiss your little feet. 

Angel mine! 
Feel the touch of helpless hands. 
Stronger far than iron bands. 
With love's strength around my fingers clasp 
and twine. 

Come when gates of dawn swing wide 

Far above. 
Or with shadowy eventide. 

Little dove! 
[49] 



From the angels' watchful care, 
As an answer to my prayer, 
Come whene'er you will, you bring the crown 
of love! 



[50] 



THE CARAVELS 

In the facade of the Wednesday Club 

Whence did ye come and whither did je sail, 

O mimic galleons of by-gone days ; 
From what fair land enshrouded by the haze 
Of memory's veil? 

Didst carry spices from the Orient fair, 

Or gold and jewels from some ravished fane. 
Or priestly robes that odors still retain 
Of incense rare? 

Whose was the hand that steered ye in the path 
Beneath the Southern Cross or burning sky ; 
Who stood at bay to battle and defy 
The cyclone's wrath? 

The brave who shipped with ye, forgotten, rest 
In dreamless slumber countless fathoms deep. 
Reposing peacefully as child asleep 
On mother's breast. 

And those who mourned them, too, have passed 
away. 
Their bones returned to dust in unknown 

graves ; 
Unheeded, Summer smiles or Winter raves 
Above the clay. 

[51] 



O Time, thou monarch, naught thy power bars ; 
The great, the small, beneath thy wheels dost 

grind. 
Grant at the end our record we may find 
Beyond the stars. 



[62] 



POEMS OF NATURE 



A SLEIGHING SONG 

The white road stretches smooth and wide 
Beneath the glittering winter sky; 
Fast as the wind, oh, let us fly, 

And on its spreading pinions ride. 

O bells, sleigh bells, your tinkling notes 
Pierce the keen air with wild delight. 
And not a sound disturbs the night, 

Save that from out your silver throats. 

Within the sky the stars are lost, 
The timid moon has veiled her face 
Behind a cloud of filmy lace, 

And all the night is framed in frost. 



[55J 



EVENING 

In silhouette 'gainst the darkening skies 
A sentinel tree that sways and sighs ; 
Across the waves from the moon above 
Lies the golden path of the boy god, Love; 
A mocking-bird to his mate a-near 
Flutes lowly, tenderly, softly clear; 
In gathering shadows far below 
The tramping feet of the surges go; 
And on the horizon dim, remote, 
Is drifting seaward an empty boat. 



[56] 



THE NECROMANCER 

From field and grove the mournful crickets cry, 
Through woodland drear the wandering 
breezes sigh, 

No longer joyous carolling is heard, 
But lonely note from some belated bird. 

Alas, for flower-crowned Summer, queen no 
more; 

Her kingdom is usurped, her reign is o'er, 
And of her dainty court, or crown, or throne, 

Remain, but withered blossoms widely strewn. 

A mighty necromancer monarch comes. 

He lifts his wand; the forest wide succumbs. 
Submissive bending 'neath his fingers chill. 

Whose touch transmutes to greater beauty 
still. 

Orange and crimson, yellow, scarlet, dun, — 
A vesture brave the wizard puts upon 

The sturdy sentinels, whose serried line 
On rugged slopes raise oriflammes divine. 

He sweeps his hand across the evening skies. 

In dazzling splendor constellations rise; 
Orion and the Pleiades bum bright ; 

The Great Bear's flaming eyes illume the 
night. 



When morning dawns again each bush and 
briar 

Is blossoming with buds of silver fire, 
And over earth's fair bosom has been tossed 

A gleaming 'broidered mantle of hoar-frost. 



[58] 



HOURS 

Upon the rocky peaks the first dim rose 

Of dawning opens through a cloudy veil, 
And far and wide within night's shadowy close 

Bright wings of starry butterflies grow pale. 
The sleeping earth, bedewed by misty tears 

Of fragrant blooms forsaken by the bees. 
Awakes to joy when smiling morn appears 

With flower crowned tresses ruffled by the 
breeze. 

Lulled by the magic of the noontide sway, 

Tangled in web of sunshine, the world dreams ; 
To secret coverts shadows shrink away. 

And hushed the murmuring voices of the 
streams. 
Green glooms, unstirred by song or rustling 
wing. 

The stately arcades of the forest rise ; 
And in the mystic blue of space a-swing, 

Earth clasped about with golden silence lies. 

The crescent moon above in splendor floats, 
A shining galleon ; on the sea below. 

Mirrored, she swings with fleet of starry boats. 
Rocked by the pulsing waters to and fro. 

The gentle evening breezes lightly sweep 
From leafy branches rustling harmonies ; 

[59] 



Folded in painted chalices, flowers keep 

The secrets of the night with odorous sighs, 

And phantom sails slip by and swiftly glide 
Adown the bosom of the flowing tide. 



[60] 



THE SURF DOGS 

The surf dogs moan and whine upon the beach, 

And stealthily upon their white paws glide 

Among the weedy rocks bared by the tide, 

To clutch their quarry lying out of reach, 

While overhead the seagulls soar and screech. 

Over the shining sands they lightly leap, 

Upon a wreck they crouch and madly tear, 
The while their snarling cries affright the 
air; 
They toss and surge above a sodden heap 
Of that o'er which the women soon will weep. 

The Storm King drives them on, his hunting 
pack. 
Lashing them madly o'er the surging main. 
They seize their prey who succor call in vain ; 

Then with destruction ever in their track. 

Unto the sands return demoniac. 



[61] 



THE SEAGULLS 

The seagulls float 
Above the ocean till their piercing eyes 
Discern below their finny quarry rise 

From depths remote. 

Motionless, still, 
They hang like pictures etched upon the blue, 
Then downward from the azure sky shoot 
through 

With voices shrill. 

On outspread wing, 
Beating the waves to flashing clouds of spray. 
They seize voraciously their fleeing prey 

And upward spring. 

Upon the rocks, — 
The teeth of the inhospitable seas, — 
Weary and gorged with capture, perch at ease 

The feathered flocks. 



[62] 



INDIAN SUMMER 

When cold winds rave and snow wreaths whirl 
and dance 
Amid the naked branches tossing wild, 
Behold, in bright-hued robes, a wandering 
child 
Speeds swiftly through the woods whose dark 

expanse 
Is pierced by golden sunlight's quivering lance. 
The lonely maid, to dreamful sleep beguiled 
By soft caress of summer breezes mild, 
Has wakened 'neath November's chilling glance ; 
Her lovely face, for smiles and laughter 
meant, 
Now filled with deadly fright of foes un- 
seen. 
Is backward turned with each quick, 
panting breath. 
Until the huntsman Winter might relent, 
As swift she flies to gain some covert 
green. 
While he pursues with baying hounds 
of death. 



[63] 



PERSEPHONE 

Through Winter's stormy prelude softly 

creeps 
The low, mysterious cadence of the Spring, 
And tenderly upon earth's chilly breast 
Fall the warm kisses of the genial sun ; 
The erstwhile nakedness of shrivelled boughs 
Is tasselled thickly o'er with buds and blooms, 
And fluttering wings of every passing breeze 
Scatter broadcast their delicate perfume. 
The gladsome birds prepare their little nests, 
Voicing meanwhile the joyaunce of the hour; 
And Pan, the sylvan god, on river brink 
Draws witching music from his magic pipes, 
While far afield Strephon and Chloris dance. 
The young, the gay, the sorrowful and old. 
Yield to the gentle blandishment of her 
Who leaves for a short space dark Pluto's 

realm : 
Too soon the gloomy king will call again 
His ravished bride, the fair Persephone. 



[64] 



REGINA 

From languorous southland, lo, a sovereign 

comes 
Robed in diaphanous, effulgent clouds, 
Crowned by the sun, jewelled by blazing stars, 
Upon her swelling breast a silver moon. 

O mighty queen, with power invincible, 
Thou art the mistress of all magic arts, 
SAveeping the chords of passion and of love 
That fill the earth with wild, entrancing dreams ; 
At thy behest from rocky fastness high. 
Torrents leap forth with snowy, streaming 

locks. 
And avalanches thunder down the gorge, 
Voicing thy praises while they devastate. 
For joy of thee embodied harmonies 
Wing through the fragrant air in tuneful flight ; 
Beneath thy feet the flowers stir and wake 
To offer homage with their bud and bloom. 
And w^andering breezes sob themselves to sleep 
Upon the cradle of thy throbbing breast; 
Thy dewy mouth is stained by many a kiss 
Of days now cold, but with the old-time spell 
Invites approach of rosy hours to come. 
Fraught with fair mornings and with per- 
fumed eves. 
With long, still, blossoming days and honey- 
bees, 

[65] 



And lilies and a world of golden light. 
Oh, veil the splendor of those glorious eyes, 
Whose burning gaze beyond the distant peaks 
Would seek to lure the tender, unborn hours 
From out the womb of time to die at last 
Upon the poison of thy fatal lips. 
Dost not thy prescient gaze behold thy bier 
O'erstrewn with leaves crimsoned by thy life- 
blood, 
And hear the moaning voices of the wind 
Thy dirge intoning as thou movest on, 
Imperial, triumphant in thy charms.'' 
Loose not the shining ripples of thy hair 
To lie in dalliance by the limpid stream. 
For, lo, at heel the savage Winter stalks. 
With blasting breath, and knout of ice and 

snow, 
O'er mountain, over plain, through woodland 

fair. 
Vengeful and merciless, pursuing thee ; 
And in a little time, bereft of strength. 
With sobbing cries and trailing garments rent. 
Forlorn as ever beggar in his rags, 
Shalt thou, beneath his scourgings, meet thy 
doom. 



[66] 



THE DESERT 

As far as eye can reach the desert wide 

Stretches its awful waste of shifting sands 

Where thirst and hunger, grisly phantoms, 
bide, 
To seize their quarry with relentless hands. 

In scattered clusters thorny cactus grows, 
And wandering coyotes with stealthy tread 

Prowl round the hillocks that the simoon throws 
Above the whitened bones of travellers dead. 

The mists of morning in a thousand hues 
Across its bosom weave their filmy lace ; 

The splendor of the moonlit night endues 
With peaceful loveliness its cruel face. 

But merciless it sleeps, a spirit fell. 

And dreams and dreams while evermore it 
weaves 
In wonderful mirage its magic spell. 

Betraying unto death whoe'er believes. 

Yet on those arid breasts oases cling. 

Where by the cooling well palm branches 
wave, 

A vernal sanctuary offering 

Amid the desolation of the grave. 

[67] 



O sorceress, what power is thine that lures? 

Despite thy terrors and thy scorching breath, 
Who know desire thee while time endures, 

Though in thy wild embraces there is death. 



[68] 



AT LA JOLLA 

Stern and implacable the rocky shore 

Stretches its length, 
Upon it mighty surges toss and roar 

In awful strength. 

Brown garlands torn from ocean gardens fair, 

Deep 'neath the waves. 
Float tangled with bright sea-shells here and 
there, — 

Flowers strewn on graves. 

White foaming billows leap into the skies, 

High heaven to gain ; 
Then impotent fall back with bellowing cries, 

Like beasts on chain. 

As far as eye can reach the battle goes 

'Twixt earth and sea. 
And in and out the strong tide ebbs and flows 

Eternally. 



[69] 



NEWPORT HARBOR 

The damp winds blow 

From fog-banks low 
That stretch across the western skies; 

Their lips of mist 

The waves have kissed, 
Responsive but in plaintive sighs. 

The once glad sun 

His race has run, 
Nor casts one farewell look behind 

As in the west 

He sinks to rest 
With vaporous brow and vision blind. 

The pallid moon 

Lies in a swoon 
Upon the tree-crowned heights afar; 

And on the rim. 

With life-light dim. 
Just breathes one flickering little star. 

A slow swung bell 

Tolls out its knell 
From yonder tower tall and white ; 

But far and wide, 

Athwart the tide, 
The kindled lantern cheers the night. 

[70] 



BY THE PACIFIC 

From distant, sunny Orient where 

Lie hill-shrines bowered in the trees, 

Whence tinkling bells, 'mid blossoms fair, 

Send forth their music on the breeze; 

From land of the chrysanthemum 

The crested billows swiftly come. 

They bring the incense odors sweet. 

The boom of many a temple gong, 
The pattering of sandalled feet 

That roam the scented paths along; 
They whisper of that land of flowers 
Where joy and gladness mark the hours. 

On lock-bound coasts, forbidding, bleak, 

The once glad waves from that bright zone 
Lay on the shore a pallid cheek 
And sing in plaintive monotone. 

Or lift white hands in mournful cries 
Of grief for their lost paradise. 



[71] 



O BIRD, SWIFT FLYING 

O BIRD, swift flying 
From out the rosy west where light is dying, 
Say, dost thou seek amid some leafy screen 
Thy little nest all canopied with green? 
Then stay thy flight, 
For empty hangs thy home; thy mate has 

flown 
Far, far afield, and thou art here alone. 
Bereft to-night. 

Last eve while calling 
Thy sweet good-night amid the shadows falling, 
When save wind-voices from the distant hill 
All tired nature rested calm and still, 
Thou couldst not know 
On surer, swifter wings than thine flew 

sorrow. 
And thou, poor bird, upon the morrow 
Wouldst mourning go. 

Then cease thy wailing 
And searching vain ; thy little wings are failing. 
Dear bird, thou seekest but an empty nest ; 
Oh, come ; forget thine anguish on my breast. 
Soft rustling thing, 
For he who set thy silver tongue a-swinging. 
Within the golden bell of Summer ringing. 
Bids thee to sing. 

[72] 



THE RETURN 

Across the azure deeps the birds are soaring, 
Filling the golden day with rapturous notes ; 

The meadow-lark and mocking-bird are pouring 
Ecstatic melody from quivering throats. 

Clad in his scarlet mantle captivating, 
The cardinal flutes from his green retreat ; 

Each feathered acolyte is celebrating 

A woodland mass with carols clear and sweet. 

Gloud-arabesqued and radiant with glory. 
Spring fair cathedral arches of the skies; 

Below, supreme and grand, with summits hoary, 
In solemn pomp the pillared mountains rise. 

The heart of nature in its rhythmic beating 

Wakens a yearning close akin to pain. 
Though o'er the distant hills, with fragrant 
greeting. 
Behold the flower-crowned Summer comes 
again. 



[73] 



POEMS OF SORROW 



IN A GARDEN 

In fields of air a golden sickle shows ; 

The last pale rose 
Of sunset fire has faded into grey, 

And shadows round me close. 

Steal softly, winds, across the moaning sea, 

And bear to me 
Some tidings of the loved and lost who now 

Is but a memory. 

Planted by Love's own hand the sweet peas 
bloom, 

Veiled in the gloom. 
Yet token of their presence still betray 

In delicate perfume. 

Their fragrance like a benediction rare 

Pervades the air, 
A tender record of life's ended dream. 

Fostered with loving care. 

The gentle heart that cherished them of old. 

Pulseless and cold. 
Lies on the self-same breast that gives them 
strength 

To quicken and unfold. 



[77] 



Who has not known the mockery of light, 

The dreary night 
Crowded with fretting memories of joys 

Withered by death's cold blight. 

We seek with anguished cries, but all in vain, 

Surcease from pain ; 
And then — some morn an angel shows the way, 

And Love is found again. 



[78] 



RESIGNATION 

Though death divorce us, yet thou shalt be 
mine 
Sometime, somewhere in happy years to 

come; 
Wherefore I bid my quivering lips be dumb, 
Lest by complaint I question God's design. 

Even now I feel thy love of days long past, — ■ 
Divine, unselfish from its very birth. 
So blessed that it must live beyond the earth 

And in heaven's courts perfection reach at last. 

I hear thy voice in dreams and, weeping, wake ; 
But those sweet years of mother love and 

care. 
The memory of which, anguished, I must 
bear, 
I would not barter though my heart should 
break. 

Nor would I call thee back, for thou art blest 
Beyond the utmost power of earth to give ; 
I mourn the lonely years that I must live, 

When every hour my loss makes manifest. 

Ofttimes I feel if I could break the spell. 
Thou wouldst return to me and dry my tears ; 
The grave is but the portal of the years 

Of life eternal wherein thou dost dwell. 
[79] 



O Christ, who rose o'er death triumphantly 
And sittest in high heaven, a monarch 

crowned. 
Comfort and lend thine aid till I have found 

Mine own who may return no more to me. 



[80] 



MY PEARL 

One hour divine, — 
For which His gracious name I praise, — 
Set in the golden circle of my days, 

A pearl was mine. 

It was so fair 
I scarce could think for me 'twas meant, 
That, to me, undeserving, He had sent 

A joy so rare. 

My gift from Heaven 
I guarded jealously until one day 
The envious angels sought to wile away 

What God had given. 

And no alarms 
Or bitter tears could aught avail; 
They took my treasure, leaving me to wail 

With empty arms. 

O far-ofF space, 
Wherein my lost one doth abide, 
Open but once your starry casements wide. 

And show her face. 

O Christ, the Son, 
By thy fond mother's sacred tears, 
Amid the glory of eternal years 

Give me one glimpse, but one. 
[81] 



AT NIGHT 

O GENTLE Night, whose hand beneficent 
Soothes to repose and cahn oblivion 
The cruel heartaches that attend the day 
And with their smart make desolate the hours ! 
At night we wander through the groves of 

sleep, 
Where dreams upon the branches nest and sing 
Such thrilling songs of joyaunce, hope and love, 
That Time and Death stay listening hand in 

hand; 
Dear old-time faces smile; their lips caress. 
The sweet contentment of the might-have-been 
We drink in long, deep, satisfying draughts, 
And then, — O God, we wake to weep again. 



[sa] 



IN HOSPITAL AT MANILA 

We lie outside in the sunshine 
On cots and on lounging chairs, 

And a few on canes and crutches 
Hobble painfully round in pairs. 

Many a window is open, 

O'er many the shades are drawn ; 
We know what that means, we cripples 

Who lie in the sunshine and yawn. 

We struggle to keep up courage 
By gossip and jest and chaff. 

Though the laughter a joke arouses 
Is only the ghost of a laugh. 

We talk of battle and skirmish. 
But rarely of home and friends, 

A fellow has limitations 

And knows where his valor ends. 

The slender shapes of the palm-trees 
Silhouetted against the blue. 

And clumps of the Spanish bayonet. 
Rise endlessly on our view 

Till the glowing tropic landscape 
Is torture, and sad eyes search 

With a yearning past all telling 
For the sight of maple or birch. 
[83] 



Sitting all day in the sunshine, 
Helpless and hopeless, — O God ! 

And the end of living and loving,- — 
A grave under foreign sod! 



[84] 



HOPE'S MESSENGER 

Within my heart I caged a bird, 

And listening 
With rapture, every hour heard 

Its wild notes ring. 

Through summer time the music sweet 
Rose clear and strong, 

Till even Time stayed flying feet 
To hear its song. 

It warbled of the coming days 

Golden, divine. 
Of heart's desire and flowery ways 

That should be mine. 

But autumn winds blew bleak and chill, 

And rain fell fast; 
The voice grew faint and fainter, till 

It ceased at last. 

And when the sun shone out once more 

And clouds had fled. 
Behold, upon its prison floor 

The bird lay dead. 



[85] 



MY SONG 

I SANG mj song along the broad highway, 

With life untried: 
Exultantly rang out the roundelay, 

And echoed wide. 

1 sang my song along the broad highway 

Amid the rain. 
And strove with joyous notes the livelong day 

To banish pain. 

I sang my song along the broad highway ; — 

The night has come ; 
My bleeding feet have wandered far astray. 

And I am dumb. 



[86] 



GOOD-BYE, OLD YEAR 

Good-bye, Old Year, the hours are swiftly fly- 
ing; 
The night has come at last and thou art dying. 
Doth no repentance, no remorse assail thee, 
As far and wide the wintry winds bewail thee? 
Good-bye, good-bye. 

Good-bye, Old Year; thou hast been most un- 
kindly 
To one who welcomed thee so fondly, blindly; 
Who gave thee largess as a royal guest ; 
Whose trust thou didst betray with wild un- 
rest. 
Good-bye, good-bye. 

Good-bye, Old Year who came in clouds of 

glory ; 
Thy breath upon my locks has left them hoary ; 
Thy lips were chill and filled me with alarms ; 
My roses faded in thy clasping arms. 
Good-bye, good-bye. 

Good-bye, Old Year; thy cruel hand, relent- 
less, 

Robbed memory of joy and made it scentless; 
The wine of lo\^e poured from a shattered 
glass, 

[87] 



In blood-red drops upon a mound of grass. 
Good-bye, good-bye. 

Good-bye, Old Year. And now, since thou must 

leave me, 
Wouldst sue for pardon wherein thou didst 
grieve me? 
Restore sweet trust, make whole the broken 

heart, 
And from remembrance pluck the poisoned 
dart ; — 
No answer — ruthless Year ; 
Good-bye, good-bye. 



[88] 



FINIS 

The dance is over, the song is sung. 

I've had my ha'pence; what matters more? 
We all must live though the heart be wrung 
With its anguish sore. 

On sorrowful eyes the world will frown, 

For a heavy heart makes a woeful dance, 

And a stormy wind shakes the blossoms down 

In this life of chance. 

I've had my sunshine, though wan and cold; 

I cast a shadow upon the throng. 
The day has vanished ; its story told. 
Will the night be long? 

I've smiled and jested; I now would rest 

As once in the happy days gone by. 
When safe from harm, on my mother's breast 
I was wont to lie. 

The darkness gathers : the mist rolls in ; 
The dusk is peopled with fancies wild. 
Reach, ghostly mother, from shadows thin; 
Take thy weary child. 



[89] 



DREAMS 

O HEART, 'tis vain 
To seek again 

The sweet rose-gardens of the past. 
Too late, too late, — 
The ivory gate 
'Gainst thy return is bolted fast. 

And never more 
On sea or shore 

That rare, effulgent light shall 
shine 
Whose wondrous rays, 
In by-gone days. 
Transfigured all with glow divine. 

Though one should rise 
With haunting eyes. 

To lure thee with the old-time 
charms, 
'Tis but a dream 
Of joy supreme; 
Awake to tears and empty arms. 



[90] 



PASS ON, O DEATH 

Pass on, O Death ; thy destined road be keep- 
ing, 
Nor falter in the pathway thou dost tread. 
The air is filled with sounds of bitter weeping ; 
Thy fearsome passage marked by flowers 
dead. 

The bird-song ceases ; winds no more are call- 
ing 

Amid the rustling leaves their message sweet ; 
On blighted blooms the butterflies are falling; 

All nature cowers 'neath thy passing feet. 

Away, away, nor dare molest my treasure, — 
The one frail bud unwithered by thy breath ; 

Let other, richer gardens pay thy measure; 
Pass on thy ruthless w^ay, O cruel Death. 



[91] 



TURN DOWN HIS EMPTY GLASS 

" Where I made one — turn down an empty glass." 

The Rubaiyat. 

Turn down his empty glass, but do not let 
Thy thoughts of him be filled with wild regret, 
Nor for one hour his love of thee forget. 

The Master who has wrought us out of clay, 
In diverse form has fashioned us each day; 
Faultless or flawed. His hand designed alway. 

Some for His sacred altars are found meet; 

Others for royal usage are complete; 

And some — lie soiled and broken in the street. 

He knows each blemish and each fate has 
planned, 

For honor this, that in dishonor banned; 

The wherefore sometime thou mayst under- 
stand. 

Inexorable through the changing years 

He molds, 'mid prayers of praise, 'mid anguished 

tears. 
Till at the last is ended strife and fears. 

And over all the wonder of the skies 

And earth with bud and bloom, though quiet 

lies 
One smirched and shattered, Fate's stern sacri- 
fice. 

[92] 



E'en shouldst thou call, he will not hear, alas, 
Nor of the guests that to the banquet pass 
Shall he be one. — Turn down his empty glass. 



[93] 



POEMS OF TRAGEDY 



ANARCHY 

Hatched in the fetid slums, I stir and wake 
'Mid my incestuous brood to seek the light. 
From teeming alleys, courts and city streets, 
With sibilant hiss I call the unemployed. 
The thief, the harlot and the murderer; 
From haunts and dens of sin unspeakable. 
Through busy market-place I take my way, 
Upon my slimy trail my following, 
While ruin, devastation, rapine foul, 
Its hydra-head rears high above the throng. 
We leave upon our track dishonored homes. 
Children defiled, and youths degenerate; 
The fair, white, virgin bodies of young maids, 
In gross embrace deflowered, then trampled 

down. 
Our battle cry rings through the trembling 

world, 
" Equality, fraternity for all ! " 
Is this fraternity, equality? 
Tortured and broken from the mills we come, 
From awful Stygian darkness of the mines ; 
Starving and maddened by our impotence, 
Monsters that once were brothers, we arise. 
What hand has set us free to work our will.? 
Not God who in His image made us all. 
And gave the earth that we might eat and live ; 
Not God, — but man, exultant in his might, 
Obsessed with thirst of power to emulate 
[97] 



Divinity and make all worlds his own. 

Man, — the proud conqueror of earth and air, 

The lord supreme of nature's mysteries, — 

Strides over prostrate bodies of his serfs, 

Heedless alike of curses and of prayers ; 

The strong, the weak, the innocent, the old, 

He grinds to indistinguishable pulp 

To furnish forth his Bacchanalian feasts, 

Till, turned to beasts, raging like beasts they 

rise, 
And from their agony, behold I am. 



[98] 



SISTERS 

Youii name is Mary, mine is Magdalene ; 

You tread the road to heaven and I to hell; 
But why your life is pure and mine unclean, 

The Power that made us both alone can tell. 

Our spirits, dwelling in primordial flame. 
Together burned in space, nor evil knew, 

Until by unknown force we hither came. 
And I a garret found, — a palace, you. 

The same hot blood flows in the veins of each ; 

In both, primeval instincts seethe and glow. 
Of me they make a sinner beyond reach ; 

In you they smoulder 'neath convention's 
snow. 

Your chaste, young breast is not more fair than 
this, 

A pillow for desire-sated sleep ; 
My mouth is stained by many a wanton kiss. 

While yours its flower-like purity may keep. 

O Destiny, thou cruel and unjust. 

Why to the helpless issue such decrees. 

That yield some lips to love and some to lust ; 
Give some the wine of life and some the lees? 



[99] 



Within my awful charnel-house in vain 
I strive 'gainst fetters of heredity. 

Shall I no more my lost estate regain 

When fleshly gyves my bhghted soul set free? 



[100] 



BETRAYED 

How long the time since I have dared to pray 
I know not, reckoning by hour or day, 

By months or years ; 
But I have sought to wash my gailt away 

With contrite tears. 

Derided, shamed, I've faced the cold world's 

scorn, 
The harlot's name upon my bosom bonie. 

By man's decree. 
While my betrayer, all his vows forsworn, 

Went scathless, free. 

O heart of stone 'gainst which mine own heart 

beat, 
O lying lips that, passionful and sweet. 

Betrayed by kiss, 
Can e'er be made atonement that is meet 

For sin like this ; 

Who, pausing for a moment at love's shrine, 
Steals from the crystal chalice sacred wine, 

And having drained, 
Casts down with ruthless hand the cup divine 

His touch has stained.'' 



[101] 



When Lucifer in human guise would take 
A hand at hazard with a soul for stake, 

The end's the same, 
And weaklings, lured by him his dice to shake, 

Must lose the game. 



[102] 



THE WANTON 

Life met me smiling, with an outstretched hand 
That held bright flowers of hope and joy su- 
preme, 
And said, " All things are thine, at thy com- 
mand." 
And yet her promise was an empty dream ; 
Footsore and weary, beggared and a-cold, 
I know, O Life, thy lies are manifold. 

I drank her draught and pleasured through the 

land. 
In garish day and 'neath the stars' pale gleam ; 
She lured me on until at last I stand 
Naked and shuddering by death's icy stream. 
O Life, thou wanton, heartless, strong and bold. 
Within thy grasp man's soul a toy dost hold. 



[103] 



RACHEL 

The time is long ago when I and Grief 

Struck hands reluctantly on life's highway, 
Since then for me has shone no cheering ray, 
And of my fond hopes not one tiny leaf 
Remains to tell of their fruition brief. 
With tear-blind eyes I wander far astray 
On hopeless quest that I perchance some day 
May overtake relentless Death, the thief, 

From whose dread presence, filled with wild 
alarms, 
I fled on fear-winged feet that summer 
tide. 
And yet, despite my tears, despite my 
pain, 
He ravished from my impotent, fond arms 
My cherished blossoms, — I no bud could 
hide ; 
Therefore I wander, seeking, but in 
vain. 



[104] 



THE JESTER 

"All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players." 

With haggard face smeared o'er in red and 
white, 
Behold the jester leaps upon the stage; 
The public greet his entrance with delight, 

As by his quips and grins he earns his wage. 
Though pain and anguish claim him for their 
own, 
Though sorrow's bitter cup his lot to quaff, 
His painted lips emit no sigh or moan ; 

He jests and capers that the world may 
laugh. 

Wearied at last of heavy-hearted jokes, 

They yawn, and he no more their interest 
keeps. 
His wildest flights nor mirth nor smile pro- 
vokes ; 
They hiss, — behind his paint the jester 
weeps. 
His little hour has passed and he is done. 

The fickle world demands a new surprise, 

Another clown their mad applause has won. 

And in his garret, starved, the jester dies. 



[105] 



CONDEMNED 

What of the night, 
O watchman, pacing 'neath the skies? 
Above the peaks does dawn arise? 

Not yet 'tis Hght. 

The heavens are dark, 
The leaden clouds shut out the stars ; 
They stretch above like prison bars. 

So stern and stark. 

A dead moon swings. 
No light ! No light, and we must die ! 
Yet be the dawn afar or nigh. 

Too swift its wings. 

When morning fair 
Wakes we shall lie stretched stiff and cold. 
Our heads low pillowed in the mold. 

Our spirits — where? 



[106] 



PAYING THE PIPER 

Dancing on in the joyous weather, 

Youths and maidens with quip and fling, 

Merrily laughing, trip together 
To the Piper's music hearkening. 

What though feet through the quagmire 
wander? 

Youth is the time to revel and sing; 
Golden, beautiful days to squander. 

And follow the Piper, rioting. 

Fruit of knowledge is plucked and tasted, 
Souls are risked for the savoring; 

Roses of joy are culled and wasted. 
While after the Piper hastening. 

Shadows gather; the winds are wailing; 

Phantoms of evil clasp and cling. 
Onward still, though the strength be failing. 

For the Piper grim is summoning. 

Unto the soul despair has spoken ; 

Courage and hope long since took wing; 
Tears are dried, for the heart is broken, — 

And now for the Piper's reckoning. 



[107] 



THE LAND OF WOE 

Faint and dim on the horizon, 
Amid islands bright and fair, 

Lies a land of tears and mourning 
Lies a land of wild despair. 

The same waves sing on its beaches, 
The same heaven o'er it smiles ; 

Round it perfumed winds are blowing 
As in other happier isles. 

Yet it lies accursed and lonely, 
And its palm trees in the wind 

Sway and whisper, " Ye who come here 
Must leave every hope behind." 

Island of the broken-hearted. 

Where are severed ties of earth. 

E'en the angels weep, beholding, 
And the devils shriek with mirth. 

Ye who pray above your darlings 
And their dying forms caress, 

Would ye drain the cup of torment 
And know utter hopelessness: 

Think upon that woeful country 
Where the hapless go to die, — 

Man abandoned, God forsaken, 
Leper island, Molokai! 
[108] 



THE OPEN GATE 

There is a gate 
Narrow and Ioav with lichen overgrown ; 
Those who would fain pass through approach 
alone, 

In royal state. 

Black shadows creep 
About the portal which is never fast ; 
Oft with one touch ye enter and at last 

Know why ye weep. 

The road thereto 
Anon is smooth and fair, then dour and dark, 
But at the end there flickers a faint spark 

The gateway through. 

None comprehend 
This side the secret of the hidden light, 
For none return who go beyond the sight, 

Or message send. 

How great thy need, 
However blighted hope and life may be, 
'Tis thine to suffer or the mystery 

To dare and read. 

Naught may compel 
The awful question or the fiery test. 
But all who writhe in agonized unrest 

The cure know well. 
[109] 



Then fear not fate ; 
When destiny is hopeless, hostage cease 
To misery; take thou thine own release,- 

Pass through the gate. 



[110] 



VANQUISHED 

A CASTLE stood 

Upon the borders of a boundless sea; 

An ancient wood 
Embowered and concealed it cunningly, 
But silvern bells at eventide betrayed 

Its presence tunefully. 

Eyes starry bright 
Gazed through the mullioned windows' ivy 
screen 

When soft moonlight 
On maze of tangled blossoms cast its sheen ; 
And nightingales without a thought of fear 

Built nests amid the green. 

Beyond, afar, 
The purple silhouettes of mountains rose; 

The evening star 
Above their peaks hung signals of repose; 
And till by dawn dispersed, the fleecy clouds 

Flocked round the rocky close. 

So sweet Content 
With gentle Peace reigned in this fair domain, 

And Sorrow went 
Aside with shrouded face her path of pain, 
And though by Death companioned step by 
step. 

Sought not ingress to gain. 

[1111 



But chill winds blew, 
Snow-laden, till the flowers drooped and died; 

The wild birds flew 
Aff'righted and to southlands swift wings plied ; 
And Doubt with icy fingers stood without 

And would not be denied. 

Relentless Fate 
Led unveiled Sorrow with her haunted eyes 

Through bastioned gate ; 
Smote down defense 'mid wild despairing cries, 
Till Death at last, a conqueror and a king, 

Held Life his captive prize. 

Now stone by stone, 
White, cruel hands of surges seaward sweep 

A shattered throne 
Whose sovereignty the spirit could not keep; 
And o'er the ruins, desolate and stark, 

Mildew and darkness creep. 



[H2] 



RELIGIOUS POEMS 



THE CROSS OF RUBIDOUX 

The golden sunshine gleams o'er mesas wide, 
And over giant peaks that on each side 

In might arise, 
Invading e'en the kingdom of the skies. 

From rocky heights of Rubidoux there falls 
The shadow of a Cross that voiceless calls 

Till man must heed 
Its m.essage blest, attuned to every need. 
On whomso'er its benison doth rest, 
Responsive reverence wakens in the breast; 

The present vast 
May not eliminate the storied past. 

In blush and bloom a golden orchard glows. 
And borne on wandering breeze from cloistered 
rows, 
A perfume rare, 
Like incense from an altar, fills the air. 

Junipero Serra and the fathers sleep ; 

His Mission, best beloved, a crumbling heap. 

The spoil of Time; 
And o'er the ruined walls the roses climb. 
Dauntless of heart, they toiled with bitter 

stress 
To make a garden of a wilderness; 

From great to least 
They ministered, as friend, physician, priest. 
[115] 



And when the dark hour came and strength was 

spent, 
Their prayer for human succor impotent, 

They recked not loss. 
But martyred, dying, clung unto the Cross. 



L116] 



THE WORSHIP OF THE FLOWERS 

O FLOWERS fair, unto the world God-given, 
Earth-stars that waken from a dewy sleep 

To smile upon thy glittering twins in heaven 
That watch and ward in wind-swept spaces 
keep : 

Thy fragrant chalices are gently swaying 
'Mid woodland aisles and on the garden sod, 

In perfumed wordless prayers forever saying 
Their matins and their vespers unto God. 

The little feathered acolytes are singing 
In thrilling chorus near each hidden nest, 

On bush and shrub are balmy censers swinging 
As Nature worships at divine behest. 

From bulb and seed in dark mold fructifying, 
Ye rise triumphantly as some day we 

Shall fall into the sleep that men call dying. 
And waken into immortality. 

What matter if ye live but for an hour. 

Ye did not bloom in vain though ye must 
fade; 

Ye are the symbol of His love and power. 
The sweet sign manual His hand has made. 



[117] 



EASTER TIME 

'Tis Easter time: sing, birds, your roundelay; 
Sing, all ye little streams along the way. 

'Tis Easter time: 
O sighing trees, lament no more your shame ; 
The Cross man hewed from ye did man reclaim. 

'Tis Easter time: O sister Magdalene, 
This day know that His blood has washed thee 
clean. 
'Tis Easter time: 
He doth upon Himself all burdens take, — 
Thy base desires, thine anguish, thy heart- 
break. 

'Tis Easter time : Mary, no longer weep ; 
The Christ, thy Son, has wakened from his 

sleep. 
'Tis Easter time : 
O sorrowing mother, ever art thou blest. 
That thou hast rocked the Godhead on thy 

breast. 

'Tis Easter time : our Lord and God has risen ; 
Sing, contrite hearts, anointed by his chrism. 

'Tis Easter time : 
Through heaven and earth let the wild anthem 

ring, 
" Behold, upon His throne, Jehovah, King." 
[118] 



CHRIST'S MOTHER 

He was a baby cradled In her arms, 

Just such an one as we might love to-day, 

A little rosy child with dimpled charais, 
And Mary strove to keep all ill away. 

She bent above Him in ecstatic thought 
Like other mothers, be time old or new; 

And when His eager lips her bosom sought, 
In every sip her very soul He drew. 

And then — upon the cross 'twixt felons twain 
She saw Him nailed, she heard His last faint 
breath, 

And suffered with Him every bitter pain. 
As impotent she watched His cruel death. 

O Mary, who on erring world ingrate 

Bestowed such gift, thine only Son divine. 

What mortal power can judge or estimate 
A sacrifice so infinite as thine! 



[119] 



BETHLEHEM'S BABE 

In Bethlehem a babe was born ; 

(List the angels calling!) 
A manger was his cradle bed, 
And straw the pillow for his head. 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 

Swift winging through the gates of morn, 

(List the angels calling!) 
Responsive to his plaintive cry, 
Bright seraphs sang his lullaby. 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 

In adoration knelt the kine ; 

(List the angels calling!) 
All creatures knew their Lord supreme 
Save those blind souls he would redeem. 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 

O little hands that cling and twine ! 

(List the angels calling!) 
O baby brow whereon we see 
The sign and seal of sovereignty ! 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 

The shadow of the cross draws near; 

(List the angels calling!) 
The way to Calvary is steep, 
Death's murky vapors closer creep. 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 
[120] 



Earth, look upon thy work and fear ! 

{List the angels calling!) 
'Twixt felons twain a form doth swing, 
And man has slain his God and King ! 

(Fast the tears are falling.) 

Heavens' portals ope, worlds disappear; 

(List the anthems pealing!) 
The Son of God, man's sacrifice, 
Behold, enthroned in paradise ! 

Archangels round him kneeling ! 



[121] 



I AM A WANDERER 

I AM a wanderer from my Father's home; 
Far, far afield my erring steps have strayed 
O'er rugged mountains, height on height ar- 
rayed ; 
Through swamp and thicket dense, my way 
have made. 
Until at last I can no longer roam. 

I am a wanderer from my Father's home; 
Time was, long since, when strong and un- 
afraid, 
I woke e'er roses of the dawn could fade, 
And blithely roamed 'mid glad birds' sere- 
nade. 
Beneath a smiling heaven's arching dome. 

1 am a wanderer from my Father's home; 

My strength is spent ; no more can I per- 
suade 

My lagging feet through forests' dim arcade. 

I fear the haunted gloom and dusky shade 
Wherein the gleaming torrents roar and foam. 

I am a wanderer from my Father's home; 

The shadows lengthen ; soon will night in- 
vade 

My path. Thy hand alone can give me aid; 

O walk with me that my weak steps be stayed ! 
I am a wanderer from my Father's home. 



WHEN SHEPHERDS WATCHED 

Through that wondrous night the shepherds, 

watching, 
Saw strange signs and portents far above them. 
While the changeful winds blew hither, thither. 
In a wild unrest. 

'Mid the glittering, radiant lamps of heaven. 
Now revealed, now screened by misty curtain. 
One alone burned brighter than all others, — 
Star of Bethlehem. 

Marvelling, the shepherds left, forgotten, 
Timid flocks unguarded from night's perils. 
Guided by the light until it led them 
To a manger bed. 

Quietly the Prince of Peace was lying 
In His humble cradle by His mother, 
While the sweet-breathed kine about were 
kneeling. 
Worshipping and dumb. 

Everywhere unseen were shining legions. 
Wings outspread, their Lord and King adoring. 
Pouring through the golden gates of heaven 
In an endless throng. 



[123] 



Virgin Mary, chosen among women, 
Mother of our God, though great thy glory, 
Great thy pain. The cross whereon He suf- 
fered. 
Thee, too, crucified. 



[IM] 



YULETIDE 

The holly blushes 'neath its leaves, 
The crackling Yule log blazes clear; 

Bedeck the hall with Christmas wreaths, 
Fill up the glass with Yuletide cheer. 

The wassail bowl is brimming o'er. 
And Christmas tapers all aHght ; 

The Christ child waits beside the door 
For leave to enter in to-night. 

The world without in frosty chains 
Lies bound beneath the cold star-glow. 

But cheery home-fires through the panes 
Throw gleams across the drifting snow. 

The bells ring out their clangor sweet, 

" Peace upon earth, to man good will ! " 

Above the tumult of the street 
Rise the insistent voices shrill. 

Bid sorrow for a time depart. 
Forget a while life's discipline, 

Ope wide the portals of the heart. 
And let the Christmas mummers in. 



[125] 



CUI BONO 

Why must there be, 
Dear God, this groping through the mists and 

damps, 
Seeing afar the happy household lamps. 

But none for me? 

Why should I toil 
'Mid thorny paths beside the river's brink, 
With breaking heart and tired feet that sink 

In mud and soil? 

Some pathways lie 
Sunny and beautiful by tranquil streams, 
Some weary eyes close fast in tearless dreams ; 

Lord, why not I? 

May I not rest 
One moment upon grassy knoll in shade 
Of some old oak where little birds have made 

A hidden nest? 

When shadows fall 
And pale stars glimmer faintly through the 

night. 
Strange evil things from thickets dense affright 

With wail and call: 



[126] 



Then could 1 hear 
But once Thy voice, 'twould ease my path of 

pain ; 
Thy presence would my ebbing strength sus- 
tain, 
And banish fear. 

Ofttimes I seem, 
Asleep, to rest within Thy sheltering arms ; 
At dawn I wake to find with wild alarms 

'Tis but a dream,. 

Yet shouldst thou still 
Decree my spirit's growth by bitter loss. 
Grant me the trust to humbly kiss the Cross, 

And do Thy will. 



[127] 



